You'll Never Walk Alone
by gemathyst
Summary: A thirty year old love story is brewing under the nose of Partridge Simmons involving the Blythe brothers and Faith Meredith, and he is determined to find out what it is. [COMPLETE]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I did this story a while back, and decided to post in on It's a sort of AU, since Walter Blythe didn't die in the war. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of L.M. Montgomery's characters.

**You'll Never Walk Alone**

_Chapter 1_

I came by to Prince Edward Island early in the year 1955 to look up my son, who had recently moved there with his wife, and in doing so I remembered an old business pal of mine. We worked in a newspaper company before, the two of us, and went our separate ways some 32 years ago. I had since heard little of him; only of his marriage, and a few poems that he had published. His most famous one was the poem he wrote during the Great War...what was the name now? 'The Flute' or 'The Trumpet'...anyway, something to do with instruments.

I remembered Walter Blythe as he had been then in 1923; a slim, dark-haired, intense young man who had come through the Great War unscathed and bearing a D.C. He had always seemed a bit strange to me; not one of those creatures that belonged to the earth. If I hadn't had such sense, I'd have called him an immortal. But then, of course, there were always some things to prove that he was human. For example, he loved his food and no immortal should do that. They should be above the enjoyments of food. Walter Blythe surely wasn't.

Yet he never seemed to grow fat. On the train to Glen St. Mary, a small fishing village where he lived, I looked critically at my big belly and decided that the years had not been kind to me. But certainly Walter Blythe had remained slim. Immortals don't grow fat.

He had a turn for poetry, too, and I have to admit that he did have a certain flair for it. Not very impressed was I, though. Granted, immortals were supposed to play around with poetry now and then, but Walter Blythe had a certain craze for it.

Still, despite all these shortcomings, I had liked him very much and wrote him before coming to PEI. As the train drew up at the station I looked out of the window and saw a tall, distinguished-looking, gray-haired man waiting there. I had not a doubt that it was Walter – those eyes were enough as solid evidence.

We greeted each other very warmly, without much surprise on either side at our appearances. _I_ wasn't surprised, but I deduced that Walter had to be – a fat balding old man had emerged from the young good-looking Partridge Simmons of years gone by. As I thought of that I gritted my teeth. What a name – I should've gotten it changed ages ago.

"Well, Part," said Walter. "I hear that you've done wonderfully for yourself."

"Not so much as a rich uncle dying and leaving me money," said I. "What about yourself, Walt? You've always been the most hardworking of all of us."

Walter shrugged. A good-looking man he was; could've beaten most of the young men we passed by on our way to a café. "I've been making a bit of money from the poems, of course; and my daughter runs her shop efficiently."

I was surprised. Maybe it wasn't that astonishing, but to think of Walter Blythe having a daughter...! "You have a daughter?" I exclaimed.

Walter cracked a grin. "I did get married, you know."

I looked around as though expecting either a wife or a daughter to pop out at me, but I saw none. "What's her name, then?"

"Faith."

"Pretty name. Faith Blythe. It would get her far, all right. She runs a shop?"

Walter nodded. "She just turned twenty eight and is very independent. She does a clothes shop – personally, I'm not too keen on the designs that she hands out, but obviously the women do, for she's making a mint out of it."

"Not married?" I inquired. It was evident from the way Walter's eyes shone that he loved talking about his daughter.

"She's engaged. There were plenty of young men going after her when the war ended – she didn't look too kindly upon them. I'm afraid she didn't hanker very much to be tied down. But recently she made up her mind to be married and just picked the one she liked best. A Laurence Carter – good young man, very interesting to talk to."

I wondered very much why he didn't mention his wife, but refrained from asking. Walter, I recall, never liked being questioned even if he didn't mind the questions. It was just the questioning he couldn't take. I'm not making much sense.

Maybe it was prearranged. Or maybe it was just Walter's influence – immortal strike! For at that moment a tall, poised young woman came by and dropped a kiss on Walter's cheek. "Hello, Daddy. I didn't expect to see you here; I thought you had gone over to visit Grandma for the day." She cast an interested look at me and I returned that look with as much interest.

A beautiful woman, I decided. Nay; more than beautiful. That shinning, resplendent sheen of golden-brown hair that she had let down over her shoulders, those large, well-shaped dark eyes, the perfect complexion, the majestic aura about her – I could honestly say that I had never seen a lovelier woman.

"My friend, Mr. Partridge Simmons," Walter introduced. "Part, this is my daughter Faith."

Faith Blythe held out a hand for me to shake and I did so accordingly. A very pretty hand it was, white and with enough dimples in the knuckles. "Good afternoon," she said. "I just came by from Vancouver yesterday; I'm glad to have met you."

"You won't be staying here long?" I asked.

"No." She pushed her hair behind her ears. "I dropped in just to see how Daddy was doing, and pay my respects to my mother."

Pay her respects. I realised, with a sudden shock, that Walter's wife was dead. Good thing I hadn't asked him about her. But then, from the calm, casual manner that Faith spoke of her late mother, I inferred that both had gotten over the death sufficiently.

"In fact, I'll be headed to the graveyard in a short while," Walter told his daughter. "We can always go together." He hesitated and looked at me.

"I'd like to come along," I said immediately. A nosy old man I was.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

The graveyard was a nice one. Not too old and not too young. It had a good feel to it too – not too cheerful and not too gloomy. Walter and Faith walked on for a while before coming to a huge tombstone standing in a corner of the graveyard. Curious as to why it was so huge, I followed and saw, to my amazement, that it was a double tombstone, with two names instead of one.

FAITH MEREDITH BLYTHE

DEPARTED ON JULY 23rd, 1926

JAMES MATTHEW BLYTHE

DEPARTED ON JULY 22nd, 1926

YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE

You'll never walk alone? I was puzzled. There was certainly a story somewhere. Why had Walter allowed his wife to be placed with another man in the graveyard, and why had they printed that inscription that sounded suspiciously like the one in a recent musical or something?

Faith Jr. bent and put the flowers that she had picked up on the way at her mother's grave.

1926, I thought. Walter had left the company in 1924, and he had certainly not been married then. That left two years for him to marry and for his wife to give birth and die. Quite a short period of time for such a string of important events to occur! I ventured to ask a question even though I knew it was best not to. "James Matthew Blythe – was he one of your relations, Walt?"

Walter looked at me from the depths of his gray eyes and before God and man I swear I shivered at that moment. There was such stark sadness in them. He spoke very quietly. "He was my brother."

Brother! My mischievous mind was beginning to piece bits together. Faith Meredith had married Walter, had died and had been buried along with Walter's brother. They had died within a day of each other. Something must have had happened; and from the inscription I guessed that they must have been romantically involved; James Blythe and Faith Meredith. But this was...scandalous! If Faith Meredith had an affair with her brother-in-law, why would the two sinful people be granted a double tombstone and a combined grave? And why would Walter still take the trouble to visit a cheating wife? I was full of questions that I dared not ask.

I realised then that I had been so engrossed in the inscriptions that I had not looked at the photos. I looked now at them, and had a start. That face looking out above Faith Meredith's inscription...surely I had seen it somewhere. That near perfect beauty, the loose curls, the big eyes...swiftly, I turned to glance at Faith Jr., who was staring solemnly at her mother's picture as well. Yes, that was her, with a few modifications.

Then I looked at James Blythe's photograph. Nothing at all like Walter, even in youth. Walter had been a great-eyed, dreamy lad. James Blythe had life in his face; even the photograph had captured it. He looked fresh, young, eager, energetic. Ready to take on the world. A good-looking young man – had probably broken a few hearts before.

"You look very much like your mother," I said to Faith Jr.

She smiled rather sadly. "I know I do; I jump every time I come here and see her photo. I don't think I'm as pretty as she was, though – isn't she beautiful?" She sighed. "I wish I had known her."

"You didn't?" despite myself, the nosy old man was showing.

"No. She died when I was a baby. The only things that I have that _binds_ me to her are a few of the letters that she wrote to Uncle Jem, and some lockets. Everything else was thrown away."

Walter sighed and turned away. "God bless both of them," he said in a low voice. "Come, let's go."

Faith left us half an hour later to visit her 'Uncle Jerry', while Walter and I took a walk through the quiet little village. I could tell that his heart and mind was still at the graveyard, and I became a little uncomfortable. After spending more than three decades not seeing him, a man does forget how to handle Walter Blythe when he sinks into his reveries.

"So, she was a good wife, eh?" I blundered. The moment I said that I kicked myself mentally. But it was said.

A look of pain flashed so quickly over Walter's face that I thought I must have imagined it. "Yes," he said quietly. "A very good wife."

I dared not say anything else.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

The nosy old man struck again.

I had gotten myself invited by a kindly Una Meredith...incidentally the sister of Faith Meredith...to stay overnight at Walter's house together with Faith Jr. who would be leaving the next day.

Una had, according to Walter, come to 'keep house' for him after his wife Faith died and Una's parents passed away, leaving no one for her to fuss over. She couldn't be much younger than either of us, and was a sweet, good lady who was unfailingly helpful. She adored Faith Jr. – I guess it had to be so, for no one could help liking Faith. She was such a generous, good-hearted young woman. To be sure, I have often thought that she needed a little more passion and heart as she seemed very calm and collected about everything, but then...she was twenty-eight and an independent woman who worked for herself. I guess it wouldn't do to be too passionate.

From the very first I could tell that Una Meredith was in love with Walter. It was nothing much – just a few tender looks, a different tone of voice that she used whenever she was with him. And it was clear that Walter was extremely unaware of it.

Well! Here was a complicated state of affairs, indeed. Walter's wife had taken up with his brother; the same wife's sister was in love with Walter himself. Interesting. I hadn't expected to find such a soap opera in a small quiet village like the Glen. Not that the soap opera was in progress now, though. The two of them were free from all scandal and rumour, Faith Jr. had told me that night. None of the Glen folks ever thought of making rumours about Walter and Una. They were a 'squeaky clean' pair of people, she said with a laugh, and 'Aunt Una' did her father a great deal of good.

"Daddy forgets to come to meals sometimes," she said, "he's so abstracted when he's working on a poem. Aunt Una comes and hauls him to his meals – she told me once that she loved doing it, because it reminded her of my grandpapa – her father. She's been like a mother to me for as far as I can recall. She's very nice."

I was sure she was very nice, but at present she was not in my thoughts at all.

The next morning, after going to the station to see Faith off with Walter, the old boy and I parted ways – he to his poems, me to the café we had gone the previous day. I would be leaving that night for Charlottetown, where my son lived – and summoned all the nosiness in my nature to find out what exactly had been the love story between Walter, Faith Meredith and James Blythe before I left. Surely everyone in the Glen should know about it...it seemed like no small matter and besides, I guessed that in towns like this, news flew around like the plague.

I felt quite like Hercule Poirot as I walked into the café. The only thing missing was the good ole' mustache, and that assistant of his – what was his name? Captain Hawkins? And of course, the obvious fact that I didn't know a word of French.

"Coffee or tea, sir?" said the waiter, a young man with sticky out ears. I can't stand ears like those. I wanted to jump up and help flatten them, but I didn't. Now I regret it. But it bears no part in the story.

"Coffee and some toast, if you please. And take a coffee too – it's on me." I was determined to get him to talk to me.

As there was no one else in the place other than myself and him, I soon persuaded him to sit down and have a nice chat with me.

"I haven't seen you before, sir," said the young man. "A visitor, are you?"

"Yes. An old buddy of Walter Blythe. Know him?"

"Of course. I know everyone in this town sir, and all the stories that have been around for the past five decades," said the young man proudly.

Just the opening that I wanted. Call me a busybody if you will – I don't get indignant over the truth. "Which is the most interesting story you know, then?"

The young man brightened up. He evidently loved talking about his 'stories'. "That will definitely have to be the greatest love story that has ever been known to the Glen, sir. By the way, what's your name? Mine is Gregory Houston."

"Partridge Simmons," I said reluctantly.

He didn't let me down. Throwing back his head, he guffawed loudly. "I don't think your mother liked you, sir. With all respect, sir."

"Tell me the love story," I said, ignoring his respect.

"Certainly. Well, it has to do with your buddy, Mr. Simmons – Mr. Walter Blythe."

"His wife," said I, getting excited.

"Yes. Faith Meredith as she was then – before my time, of course. But I've heard that she was one of the most beautiful women the Glen folks had ever seen. Another is Leslie Moore, sir. I'll have to tell you about her some time. People said that Leslie Moore and Faith Meredith were quite the handsomest women the Glen has ever produced – not that Leslie Moore was of the Glen, of course. She's in Toronto now; an old woman, but still charming. I've seen her. Let's see – she was the friend of Mr. Walter Blythe's mother. Was. Is. They're both still alive."

I had no interest in Leslie Moore. Friend she might be, but then who wasn't the friend of everyone in this town? "Walter had a brother?" I prodded.

"Two brothers, to be exact. Only one is living. Colonel Shirley Blythe. I suspect he'd be wanting to change his name soon – Shirley is fast becoming popular as a girl's name. He works in the Air Force – one of the best commanders, I hear. Did quite a few heroic things in the second War and was given a cross for bravery. The other is Jem Blythe – James, actually, but no one called him James. Before my time, of course – he died quite some years ago, way back in 1926. A nice tombstone. He fought in the first War – got the status of a lieutenant."

I wasn't impressed. I had fought in the first War, too, and gotten a permanent leg injury. Ah, the differences in luck. And besides, a man who snatched his brother's wife away didn't deserve to be a lieutenant.

"He used to be Faith Meredith's beau. Before he went away, she gave him a rose. It was found later."

"Found?" Now I was beginning to be confused. Who had actually snatched Faith? If she had been Jem Blythe's beau, why had she married Walter?

I could have screamed when I saw a customer coming in. The waiter forgot all about me and hurried to serve him. Sighing, I paid my bill and left the café. That hadn't told me much.


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

I walked into the library after the interesting uninformative talk with the waiter – what was his name now? Gregory Louisiana? Or was it Gregory Erie? Ah, I've never been good at names.

I browsed through the books, occasionally shooting looks at the woman who sat behind the desk. She wasn't young, but she was certainly dignified and striking-looking. Not too pretty, but a face that would draw a second look. I found out later that her name was Gertrude Oliver Grant, and she had stood in for a friend who was sick.

My eye caught a pile of old newspapers in a corner while looking at the books. Interested, I made my lumbering way over to the newspapers and began thumbing through them. They seemed to be news concerning mainly the Glen news, and I no longer wondered why the people in the village seemed to be so little interested in the outside world other than the two big wars.

'Rilla Blythe marries today...' 'Carter Flagg closes his store...' 'Norman Douglas dies...' Were those really sensational enough to merit its being mentioned in a NEWSPAPER? One couldn't eat a cookie in this town without the newspaper reporting it, I thought. In my mind's eye there rose the headline: 'Earth-shattering news! Partridge Simmons ate a cookie yesterday in...'

Just as I thought that, my eye fell on an opening paragraph: 'Jem Blythe and Faith Meredith's bodies carted in...'

"Ah!" I said aloud. "Bull's eye!" I drew out the paper cautiously.

_Wednesday, July 27th, 1926_

_Jem Blythe and Faith Meredith's bodies were carted in on Saturday, 25th July. Jem's body came all the way from Holland, where he had been trying to get to Canada from. He wired his parents and told them of his location, and they flew there to take him back, along with Walter and Faith Blythe._

_They found him dead there, with little on him except his clothes, some coins for money and a dead rose that Faith had reportedly given him before he left for the war. Jem was announced 'wounded and missing' in May 1918 and no one knew whether he was dead or alive._

So this explains away Walter marrying Faith, I thought.

_After the discovery, the four of them remained in Holland for three days before coming back and later on Walter was heard to say that Faith wasn't herself. She took a walk the next afternoon and was discovered later, lying in a pool of blood with her purse gone. We believe that she was robbed and killed while on her walk. Great is our grief at the deaths of these two people._

_The funeral was held yesterday, and after the morning church service the double funeral was held. Many people turned up to pay their final respects to the couple. Walter Blythe insisted on giving them a combined tombstone with both their names on it. We extend our most heartfelt condolences to the two families. _

That meant that the words, 'You'll never walk alone', were written after the tombstone had been erected. Well, this newspaper article had told me more than the waiter had. What _was_ that chap's name? Gregory Alabama?

"That's a nice story, isn't it?"

I jumped and turned to look at Walter who was staring at me. Fat man as I was, I considered hopping past him and making for the door. On second thought, I decided not to. "Yes," I said boldly.

Walter sighed and glanced at the article. "It doesn't tell the real truth of the matter," he said.

I put down the paper, glad that he didn't seem annoyed, and walked out with him. "What really happened, then?" Soap opera? I thought. Maybe a new storyline for a Broadway musical!


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

Walter heaved a deep sigh and his eyes grew misty with memories; as though he was being transported from the present back to the world of 1926. Shivers galore for me.

"Jem and Faith were sweet on each other ever since they were at college together. Jem was never like me. He was handsome and energetic and popular, everyone liked him. Faith never looked at anyone else. And I…always loved her. But I didn't have a chance.

"When the war started, Jem was one of the first to enlist. I couldn't because I was still recovering from typhoid. I went to college with Faith – I can't talk about that, Part. Seeing her suffer…sometimes she'd meet me in the morning with swollen eyes and she'd pass it off as eyesore…and yet just being with her was a dream." He paused and swallowed…all this was difficult for him to say. "Later I joined up…and she came to see me off. I'll never forget standing on the train and watching her as I went away. She was so beautiful, in her white dress, curls falling over her shoulders, eyes shinning steadily, an angel in a bleak train station – I carried that image with me to war.

"A year or two later, Jem went missing. After the war ended I went to England to look up Faith, and saw that she was about to go back to PEI. She was working there as a VAD. So we both came back together, and on the way she fell very sick. She tried to dismiss it as food poisoning, but on her delirious nights she always called for Jem…she never stopped calling for Jem.

"She followed Una to Kingsport and worked there as a teacher. I had to finish my college course, so I went there as well, along with Jerry and Carl Meredith. We were together in Kingsport again, and we spent a lot of time together. I fell in love with her all over again. She was a truly – _great _person. She never forgot Jem, and she never stopped hoping that he was alive, but she took control of herself and went on with life. I knew she was suffering, we all did, but she didn't show any sign. Everyone else had practically given up hope on Jem ever coming back. Then…I finished college and went to work, and there I met you."

"Best thing you ever did," I interrupted, and saw his sad face wrinkle as he smiled.

"Well then. Nothing much to tell. I came back home. She was still unmarried, even though she had lots of men courting her. And she was different. She still kept up a cheerful façade, but underneath it I could sense her fading away. I felt she was dying inside, and I couldn't take it anymore. I asked her to marry me, and she said to give her one night to think about it. Eventually she agreed. I knew all along that she didn't really love me; not in that way...she couldn't, while Jem was still missing...but she gave me all she could. We had a happy quiet little home together on the edge of the Glen – the house was demolished five years ago. I was wrapped up in her, and she made life very sweet for me. Really, she was a good wife." He choked slightly and stared very hard into the distance, as though trying his best not to cry.

I wanted to tell him that it was all right, that I didn't need to hear everything if it meant him raking up memories that hurt – and indeed I didn't, but I could feel that he wanted to tell me this.

"Then she was pregnant – she seemed so happy that I was glad for her. One night when I came home early I heard her crying in the room, and calling Jem. I didn't disturb her – just went away and amused myself until it was time for me to go back. I didn't do much amusing, I'm afraid. I was so hurt – looking back, there wasn't any reason for me to be hurt. I knew perfectly well that she didn't love me...and she had never in the least given me any confirmation that she loved me – but then, of course, she was so good to me that I thought she _must_ have had some feelings for me.

"She gave birth and at first we named the baby Cecilia. Then a month later, when Faith was well again, there came the news that Jem was in Holland and alive...seriously, Part, I thought my life was going to fall apart at that moment. I loved Jem, of course, and for a long time I wanted him to return, for Faith's sake if for nothing else; but he'd turned up just at the time when I didn't want him. We received a letter from him, too – or, more accurately, Faith received a letter from him. She didn't show it to me, but I found it later on when she was already dead." He paused again and had difficulty speaking.

"Faith wanted to see Jem, so the two of us went to Holland together with my parents, leaving the baby behind with Una. When we got there...we always told everyone that we found him dead, but that wasn't the truth. We wanted to protect Faith. It wasn't her fault, mind you. Jem was severely ill with pneumonia; my father knew immediately that he was going to die soon. So I let Faith attend to Jem...she spent all the time in the room with him...seemed to have forgotten all of us. I think she really did. Hardly a word she said to anyone else; it wasn't rudeness; it was just that she honestly didn't see us."

"Terrible for you," I murmured softly, full of sympathy for Walter.

Walter's face twisted into a smile. "It wasn't that bad, I suppose. He died happily, knowing that she loved him. I don't regret it. It hurt quite badly seeing her love for him, but ultimately it was alright. Little did I know what was going to happen afterwards."

A spasm constricted Walter's throat for a moment; it soon cleared. "Faith was...well, she was different after Jem's death. She didn't let me near her; she didn't let anyone near her. Faith wasn't like other girls, Part – she didn't cry aloud and wail when she was sad. She kept it all to herself. Stayed in her room, didn't make a sound. She was white, as though she was dying. Then she asked me to let her go out on a walk the day we were supposed to leave for the Glen. I didn't want to let her; but in the end I did. Oh God! That I had stopped her!" He covered his face and I heard a deep sob emitting from his throat.

"We found her there later, Part. Dead. _She'd killed herself_…and I hadn't been there to stop her. Perhaps it was best for her that she died; I don't see how she could have continued living after the episode with Jem – but when I found her lying there with that knife through her chest I thought I'd died too. She didn't love me – she never did – but I loved her – good heavens, _I loved her…" _His eyes were full of liquid fire, his face was flushed, his body trembling. For a moment he was transfigured; changed; from a person in his declining years to a young man full of pain and grief.

I had always known that Walter was intense and passionate, but I had never dreamt that he could be like that. It was giving me shivers up and down my back. "Why the inscription 'You'll Never Walk Alone'?" I asked him.

Walter made an effort to compose himself. "You'll know when I show you the letter he wrote to her. They didn't, you know. They never did. Walk alone, I mean. They always had each other."

"And...the baby?" I said softly, almost afraid of speaking aloud.

"I renamed her Faith. You can see for yourself how much she looks like her mother. She saved my life."

He stopped talking then, and we walked on in a pensive silence.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

So that was the story. It wasn't the scandalous and passionate one that I had dreamt up, but it hadn't disappointed me, either. Instead of pitying Walter, which I had been sure I would do, I found myself pitying Faith Meredith. What a life she must have led, not knowing whether Jem was alive or not, yet maintaining a cheerful exterior until his death brought her to breaking point.

Walter showed me the letter that Jem had written to Faith, and there was love in every line. Unashamed, passionate, all-consuming, enduring love. He had addressed it to the manse, and the minister sent it to Walter's home.

I don't quite remember what it was about now, but I do remember that he wrote something like 'I'll come back to you. I don't know how long I'll take, but I will. Remember my promise down in Rainbow Valley all those years ago, before I left? I won't let you down, Faith. I told you I would return, and now I'm trying hard to. It hasn't been easy...the Germans gave me a hard time. I would have buckled and died if I hadn't been thinking and longing to come back to you. Faith, I do love you...please come to Holland to see me. I don't know if you're married yet – perhaps you are, but I just need to see your face and hear your voice after all this time…oh, Faith! I love you so much!'

One line I remember very clearly: 'We'll never walk alone as long as we have each other. Never.'

How strange that the song 'You'll never walk alone' came up after nearly thirty years.

I went down to the graveyard in the late afternoon before my train. There the tombstone was...with both their photos on it. I knew their story now.

"What were you like, I wonder?" I said to Faith in the photograph. "You must have been one great woman to make two men go out of their minds about you. Walter _is_ out of his mind about you. He still can't forget you. I suppose that's why he doesn't notice Una in the least – and she's such a good little woman."

I sat down on the earth and gazed at the tombstone.

I'm not a man given to flights of fancy. I leave that to the Walters of the world. But just then, I can swear that I saw Faith. She was walking along a river, with her arms wrapped round her waist. And she was crying, _"But I'm walking alone now. I'm walking alone now, Jem. I don't have you anymore." _

I saw her collapse on the ground beside the river, whispering, _"You promised me. You promised me you'd come back and we'd spend our lives together. You said you wouldn't let me down. Now I can't go on, Jem. I can't...go on. It may sound weak and foolish, but without you...without you, I simply don't have the courage to go on living...but I don't see how I can get out of it..."_

She took out a knife from her bag.

The touch of steel on skin, the trembling of lips, the tightening of jaw. The sudden quick stabbing, the sharp searing pain, turning her head away from the pain, letting the blood drip through her fingers, opening her eyes to look at the vast void of the sky above. Yellow…everything was yellow.

Then she saw Jem; saw him as clearly as I was now seeing her. They lay on the ground together, holding each other's hands and looking into each other's eyes.

"_You didn't die,"_ she whispered.

He shook his head. _"We'll be together, forever."_

"_You fulfilled your promise. I always knew you would." _

"_I love you, Faith,"_ he said.

"_I love you..."_

"_They'll always remember our love..."_

Suddenly, the vision was gone. Gone, like dead leaves in autumn. I was shocked. Flabbergasted. It couldn't be true...what I had just seen couldn't have been the scenario in which Faith Meredith had met her end.

If it had been...

I got up immediately, wanting to get away from that graveyard. I'm not a man easily spooked. I don't believe in any fool thing that comes my way. But I _was_ spooked then.

Before I went, I asked Walter where he'd found Faith's body.

"Beside a river," he answered, "She stabbed herself through the heart with a kitchen knife."

I experienced a cold chill through my heart.

Then, as I sat on the train, I reflected that it wasn't so bad after all. Coming to the Glen had earned me a love story – for now I could think of it as a love story. It was the best thing that could have happened; Faith would never have been able to settle down with Walter after seeing Jem die. Mourn as Walter might, ultimately he had to know that it was best that she had died. What would life had been like for them if she hadn't?

The train continued rushing on in the darkness as I thought of what Faith had heard Jem say.

"_They'll never forget our love..."_

"No," I said to myself as sleep overcame me, "We never will."


	7. Epilogue

R6144: Yes, there is a song titled 'YNWA'. It's best known as the club song of Liverpool FC.

_Epilogue_

I received this long letter from Partridge Simmons yesterday and found it very touching, so I did my work in publishing it. One line I _did_ cut out though – the last line – due to its capability of spoiling the mood of the story. It was: 'By the way, I remembered the waiter's name in this story because I went back to Glen St. Mary a few months later to check it out. Gregory Houston.'

R. Dobbs, Editor


	8. Explanations

_Explanation of YNWA_

A few of you have asked some questions about the story, so here are my explanations.

**Why is Faith such a tragic character? **

Faith was the only girl out of the Merediths and Blythes who actually went overseas and experienced war at a much closer proximity than the others, i.e. Nan and Di. She would have seen blackouts, food shortages, desperate girls turned whores, wounded men waiting to be taken back to the lines after recovery. When Jem was reported 'wounded and missing', she had nobody from the two families near her. She was bearing the burden as best she could alone in England, not to mention she left for England with the knowledge that Jerry had been seriously wounded at Vimy Ridge, and must have been very worried for him until they could send word to her.

Couple all this with the slightly altered facts in my story, that Jem did not return for five years, and I think it's safe to say that Faith would have gone through a personal hell. She was joyous, high-spirited, and always loved a laugh, but war does things to people.

Therefore I have placed Faith in a more sober light in my story, exploring how war might have ravaged her character if she had seen some of its horrors up close and had suffered with Jem's disappearance and eventual death.

**Why not a Walter/Una/Shirley? **

I like Una, but she didn't have the 'dramatic' flair that Faith could bring to the story. Neither did Shirley.

**Is there hope for Walter/Una? **

I started on a sequel quite some time back, with Partridge coming back to the Glen and seeing something up with Walter/Una, but unfortunately I changed the plot so much that I forgot it, and gave it up! So I guess YNWA will have to remain a one-timer.

**Why does Jem remain in Europe for so long? **

This part I'm not very sure, because I wrote the story without doing any checking on historical facts regarding POWs in WWI. I guess I'll try and get away with it by saying he was quite badly treated, suffered a great deal, probably lost his memory at one time, whatever it takes ;)

**There's a song titled 'You'll Never Walk Alone'! **

Yes, it's the club anthem of Liverpool Football Club, and made its first appearance in a musical called Carousel, that was staged around the same timeframe as the story. Therefore, there's a loose reference to it in Chapter 2, when Partridge thinks "why had they printed that inscription that sounded suspiciously like the one in a recent musical or something?" Knowing Partridge, he can never be clear on matters like these!

Well, I hope these explanations has clarified a few matters, and thank you all very much for your feedback!


End file.
